Last summer, I thought I was in love with J. After we broke up, until recently, we saw each other for physical companionship, but I'm over that. He has to be the most annoying person I have ever met. I can't figure out what sort of personality he has, or if he even has a personality at all. He is very quiet, depressed, has no sense of humor, and just boring in general. I saw the good in him, which was that he was trustworthy, and I place a lot of value in that. It had been a long time since I trusted someone completely. He understood my limitations with my neuropathy. We had absolutely nothing in common but he made me feel wanted and sexy and I thought that was enough. He didn't like watching movies (the horror!) and liked to play board games. There is this whole society of people I did not know existed that meet up and play strategy board games. They can play for at least 12 hours at a time. Most of these people are pretty smart (like J), but they are also mostly unemployed, or part-time employed (like J - educated but can't seem to find permanent gainful employment) and they live to play board games. I went with him a couple of times, and I was OK with it because in the beginning I was so ga-ga that I was content sitting next to him, holding his arm and getting kisses in between his turns. His depression became a huge issue and I eventually suggested he seek counseling. I was getting sick of sitting in silence, wondering what was wrong, and constantly asking him, "are you mad at me?" He always told me I made him happy, and my being around him made him feel better. Well, as soon as I suggested counseling, via text message, mind you, I got dumped. I guess I wasn't supposed to notice he was depressed? At any rate, I was pretty upset. I asked myself why I was so upset, when his only redeeming qualities were that he was 6'5" and decent in the sack. I can find a warm body anywhere, if I wanted. I am a person who likes to talk and discuss feelings, and after this text message conversation, he leaves for a week to go to a World Board Game Conference or something and won't talk to me. I realized that he wasn't what I wanted. I am a big communicator. I have to be with someone who is also a communicator. So why was I upset? Why did I cry? Granted, this wasn't the worst break-up I had been through by any means, but, how can I recognize he is not the guy for me, but still be upset? Fucking ego, that's why. Even if I don't want someone, I want them to want me. I HATE this about myself and I don't know how to change it.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Sometimes A Girl Just Needs One
Boys are such a wonderful distraction from pain. What I want now in a guy, and what I wanted before I was sick, are quite different. However, there is one thing that remains the same, and that is that I always want the ones who don't want me.
Last summer, I thought I was in love with J. After we broke up, until recently, we saw each other for physical companionship, but I'm over that. He has to be the most annoying person I have ever met. I can't figure out what sort of personality he has, or if he even has a personality at all. He is very quiet, depressed, has no sense of humor, and just boring in general. I saw the good in him, which was that he was trustworthy, and I place a lot of value in that. It had been a long time since I trusted someone completely. He understood my limitations with my neuropathy. We had absolutely nothing in common but he made me feel wanted and sexy and I thought that was enough. He didn't like watching movies (the horror!) and liked to play board games. There is this whole society of people I did not know existed that meet up and play strategy board games. They can play for at least 12 hours at a time. Most of these people are pretty smart (like J), but they are also mostly unemployed, or part-time employed (like J - educated but can't seem to find permanent gainful employment) and they live to play board games. I went with him a couple of times, and I was OK with it because in the beginning I was so ga-ga that I was content sitting next to him, holding his arm and getting kisses in between his turns. His depression became a huge issue and I eventually suggested he seek counseling. I was getting sick of sitting in silence, wondering what was wrong, and constantly asking him, "are you mad at me?" He always told me I made him happy, and my being around him made him feel better. Well, as soon as I suggested counseling, via text message, mind you, I got dumped. I guess I wasn't supposed to notice he was depressed? At any rate, I was pretty upset. I asked myself why I was so upset, when his only redeeming qualities were that he was 6'5" and decent in the sack. I can find a warm body anywhere, if I wanted. I am a person who likes to talk and discuss feelings, and after this text message conversation, he leaves for a week to go to a World Board Game Conference or something and won't talk to me. I realized that he wasn't what I wanted. I am a big communicator. I have to be with someone who is also a communicator. So why was I upset? Why did I cry? Granted, this wasn't the worst break-up I had been through by any means, but, how can I recognize he is not the guy for me, but still be upset? Fucking ego, that's why. Even if I don't want someone, I want them to want me. I HATE this about myself and I don't know how to change it.
Last summer, I thought I was in love with J. After we broke up, until recently, we saw each other for physical companionship, but I'm over that. He has to be the most annoying person I have ever met. I can't figure out what sort of personality he has, or if he even has a personality at all. He is very quiet, depressed, has no sense of humor, and just boring in general. I saw the good in him, which was that he was trustworthy, and I place a lot of value in that. It had been a long time since I trusted someone completely. He understood my limitations with my neuropathy. We had absolutely nothing in common but he made me feel wanted and sexy and I thought that was enough. He didn't like watching movies (the horror!) and liked to play board games. There is this whole society of people I did not know existed that meet up and play strategy board games. They can play for at least 12 hours at a time. Most of these people are pretty smart (like J), but they are also mostly unemployed, or part-time employed (like J - educated but can't seem to find permanent gainful employment) and they live to play board games. I went with him a couple of times, and I was OK with it because in the beginning I was so ga-ga that I was content sitting next to him, holding his arm and getting kisses in between his turns. His depression became a huge issue and I eventually suggested he seek counseling. I was getting sick of sitting in silence, wondering what was wrong, and constantly asking him, "are you mad at me?" He always told me I made him happy, and my being around him made him feel better. Well, as soon as I suggested counseling, via text message, mind you, I got dumped. I guess I wasn't supposed to notice he was depressed? At any rate, I was pretty upset. I asked myself why I was so upset, when his only redeeming qualities were that he was 6'5" and decent in the sack. I can find a warm body anywhere, if I wanted. I am a person who likes to talk and discuss feelings, and after this text message conversation, he leaves for a week to go to a World Board Game Conference or something and won't talk to me. I realized that he wasn't what I wanted. I am a big communicator. I have to be with someone who is also a communicator. So why was I upset? Why did I cry? Granted, this wasn't the worst break-up I had been through by any means, but, how can I recognize he is not the guy for me, but still be upset? Fucking ego, that's why. Even if I don't want someone, I want them to want me. I HATE this about myself and I don't know how to change it.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Monday, March 9, 2015
Friday, January 16, 2015
RIP Hamlet
Our 15 year old cat, Hamlet, died last night after battling bladder cancer. I am destroyed. I love him so much. He always made me smile.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Little Pink Houses
It's New Year's Eve, 5:21 AM. I have not been to sleep yet, which isn't unusual, but I had made a little progress lately and was going to bed around 2 AM and rising before noon. I was pretty proud of myself for those couple of weeks I kept that up.
This Christmas was probably the worst one yet. I usually get happy around this time no matter what, but my pain has been getting much worse and I didn't feel like doing shit. We didn't even get the tree up. I worried about all the things I had to do to the point of insanity so I finally just decided not to stress over it. I had some gifts for my daughter and taped up some Christmas cards I'd received and that was about all I could muster. I'm wondering if I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome brought on by my illness and or my medication. Maybe it's not a classic case, but I am most certainly fatigued. Chronically.
The thing I have been doing lately to occupy my mind is fantasizing about having my own apartment for my daughter and me. I have made a separate Amazon Wish List in addition to my default one with things I want for said apartment. I dream about doing whatever I want (which, really, isn't that much) and not be edited by my Mother. I don't care how old you are. If you live with your parent(s), you're 16 all over again. Anyway, my fantasy apartment will be mostly pink. The art on the walls will represent the movies and music I love; Buffalo '66, Fiona Apple, Rick Springfield, Into the Wild. All in really cool frames. And I would love to have a pink sofa just like You Tube's Kandee Johnson. Her whole house is cool, and I love her to death! (another thing I am doing - watching You Tube videos of others people's lives.)
I just can't escape the mindset that if my life is forever going to suck, I should at least be free and surrounded in pink and create my own wacky schedule without criticism. If I were in a situation where I were being cared for, I would suck it up and accept my fate, but that isn't the case. I may as well be on my own (with my daughter) and take my medicine and watch Netflix in peace and play my music loud. These aren't big things in a normal person's life, but to me they are monumental.
Speaking of medicine, I have been getting drug screened at my pain clinic for years. This is no big deal to me as I do not do illegal drugs and I take my medicine as prescribed. Understandably, the facility wants to make sure no one is mixing their meds with bad stuff and also to monitor that they are actually taking their pills and not selling them or something. So after years of this with no problem, about a month ago the clinic called me and said I tested positive for Tramadol. I am not on Tramadol. I was on it years ago and it did absolutely nothing for me so I was put on something else. The protocol for the clinic is to dismiss anyone whose drug screen comes back abnormal. I freaked the fuck out. How did this happen? Who is fucking with me? I swore to my doctor I was not taking Tramadol, just like all the junkies who swear up and down they didn't snort any coke or shoot up any heroin despite the positive test results. I was actually with the Physician's Assistant when I was told and tears came to my eyes. If I were dismissed from this clinic, what other clinic would accept me with a failed drug test in my records? I have a pretty good relationship with this PA, a lovely German woman who unfortunately recently left the practice. She asked my doctor what he could do for me and he said he would give me another chance, thank you God. I think she believed me as this has never happened and she knows my personality. I mean, I don't even drink and I am very anti-drug. This is all so strange to me and I have been doing research and calling pharmacists trying to find out what may have caused this false-positive. I feel like asking to have two urine samples taken next time in case I need to prove my innocence. I am terrified it will happen again. I wanted to tell my doctor I need either a higher dose of my existing medication, or something for breakthrough pain as everything is getting worse, but now may not be the best time.The spasms in my feet are more frequent and more painful than ever. Imagine lying in bed (because after all, that's what I do best) and it feels like your foot or shin is struck by lightning. My leg jumps in the air and I audibly yell out. It only lasts a few seconds but I just about scare the shit out of anyone sitting near me. Then there's the ever-present leg pain. Let me tell you, if I WERE going to do any other drugs, it wouldn't be Tramadol, it'd be marijuana. North Carolina is not a medical marijuana state but I wonder if it would help as I hear it's good for nerve pain. I've never smoked pot. I wouldn't even know how to smoke it. But I sure would try it it were feasible. But with my luck I would get lung cancer or emphysema. In other news, I have had a few trysts with my ex boyfriend from the summer. Turns out that was a bad idea because in my old age I have discovered I cannot separate love and sex. But I must say, having sex, especially good sex, sure does make one forget about being in writhing pain all the time. It's a good thing I have (some) self-control because this new discovery could turn me into a major slut. Besides, it's just too much trouble leaving the damn house.
This Christmas was probably the worst one yet. I usually get happy around this time no matter what, but my pain has been getting much worse and I didn't feel like doing shit. We didn't even get the tree up. I worried about all the things I had to do to the point of insanity so I finally just decided not to stress over it. I had some gifts for my daughter and taped up some Christmas cards I'd received and that was about all I could muster. I'm wondering if I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome brought on by my illness and or my medication. Maybe it's not a classic case, but I am most certainly fatigued. Chronically.
The thing I have been doing lately to occupy my mind is fantasizing about having my own apartment for my daughter and me. I have made a separate Amazon Wish List in addition to my default one with things I want for said apartment. I dream about doing whatever I want (which, really, isn't that much) and not be edited by my Mother. I don't care how old you are. If you live with your parent(s), you're 16 all over again. Anyway, my fantasy apartment will be mostly pink. The art on the walls will represent the movies and music I love; Buffalo '66, Fiona Apple, Rick Springfield, Into the Wild. All in really cool frames. And I would love to have a pink sofa just like You Tube's Kandee Johnson. Her whole house is cool, and I love her to death! (another thing I am doing - watching You Tube videos of others people's lives.)
I just can't escape the mindset that if my life is forever going to suck, I should at least be free and surrounded in pink and create my own wacky schedule without criticism. If I were in a situation where I were being cared for, I would suck it up and accept my fate, but that isn't the case. I may as well be on my own (with my daughter) and take my medicine and watch Netflix in peace and play my music loud. These aren't big things in a normal person's life, but to me they are monumental.
Speaking of medicine, I have been getting drug screened at my pain clinic for years. This is no big deal to me as I do not do illegal drugs and I take my medicine as prescribed. Understandably, the facility wants to make sure no one is mixing their meds with bad stuff and also to monitor that they are actually taking their pills and not selling them or something. So after years of this with no problem, about a month ago the clinic called me and said I tested positive for Tramadol. I am not on Tramadol. I was on it years ago and it did absolutely nothing for me so I was put on something else. The protocol for the clinic is to dismiss anyone whose drug screen comes back abnormal. I freaked the fuck out. How did this happen? Who is fucking with me? I swore to my doctor I was not taking Tramadol, just like all the junkies who swear up and down they didn't snort any coke or shoot up any heroin despite the positive test results. I was actually with the Physician's Assistant when I was told and tears came to my eyes. If I were dismissed from this clinic, what other clinic would accept me with a failed drug test in my records? I have a pretty good relationship with this PA, a lovely German woman who unfortunately recently left the practice. She asked my doctor what he could do for me and he said he would give me another chance, thank you God. I think she believed me as this has never happened and she knows my personality. I mean, I don't even drink and I am very anti-drug. This is all so strange to me and I have been doing research and calling pharmacists trying to find out what may have caused this false-positive. I feel like asking to have two urine samples taken next time in case I need to prove my innocence. I am terrified it will happen again. I wanted to tell my doctor I need either a higher dose of my existing medication, or something for breakthrough pain as everything is getting worse, but now may not be the best time.The spasms in my feet are more frequent and more painful than ever. Imagine lying in bed (because after all, that's what I do best) and it feels like your foot or shin is struck by lightning. My leg jumps in the air and I audibly yell out. It only lasts a few seconds but I just about scare the shit out of anyone sitting near me. Then there's the ever-present leg pain. Let me tell you, if I WERE going to do any other drugs, it wouldn't be Tramadol, it'd be marijuana. North Carolina is not a medical marijuana state but I wonder if it would help as I hear it's good for nerve pain. I've never smoked pot. I wouldn't even know how to smoke it. But I sure would try it it were feasible. But with my luck I would get lung cancer or emphysema. In other news, I have had a few trysts with my ex boyfriend from the summer. Turns out that was a bad idea because in my old age I have discovered I cannot separate love and sex. But I must say, having sex, especially good sex, sure does make one forget about being in writhing pain all the time. It's a good thing I have (some) self-control because this new discovery could turn me into a major slut. Besides, it's just too much trouble leaving the damn house.
Friday, December 5, 2014
As Good As It Gets
I spend so much time being frustrated at all the things I can't do, especially with the holidays approaching. I want to go out and see all of the sparkly, pretty things. I want to shop for gifts for my daughter. I want the house to be clean! I think what would make me the most happy right now is if the house were clean and decorated and pretty. I have been fantasizing about a pink Christmas. I have become a professional fantasizer, actually. That comes right after being a professional Netflix watcher. Anyway, we have lived in this town home for a little over a year. The living room, if you could call it that, is still full of boxes. We also have a storage room full of stuff. Ninety-five percent of it is my Mom's junk. We need help with the heavy lifting and there's no one to help. Of course, I could pay someone to help, but I don't exactly have any disposable income being on disability. And that's another frustration. I can't say to myself that this is a temporary situation. I can't tell myself that when I get a job, things will be better. This is it, baby. Unless someone finds a cure, this is my life forever.
I often get flashes of how my life was before. I think about the things I used to be able to do that I can't do anymore. Little dumb things, like washing my car and going to the movies. My life is in my bed. These days, I only go out when I have a medical appointment. I order in food way too much because buying and preparing food is a tremendous task. I'm still a vegetarian but I am eating like crap.
My Mom has had some health problems of her own lately. She may have rheumatoid arthritis or fibromyalgia. She's in pain most of the time and doesn't do anything around the house. Of course, even before this she wasn't exactly Martha Stewart, but I could rely on her for some things. My daughter has never been taught to do anything because I have always waited on her. I am slowly trying to teach her things but I don't want her to be my caretaker. She shouldn't have to take care of me. I just want to take care of myself and my daughter and being robbed of that privilege is almost as painful as the neuropathy.
I often get flashes of how my life was before. I think about the things I used to be able to do that I can't do anymore. Little dumb things, like washing my car and going to the movies. My life is in my bed. These days, I only go out when I have a medical appointment. I order in food way too much because buying and preparing food is a tremendous task. I'm still a vegetarian but I am eating like crap.
My Mom has had some health problems of her own lately. She may have rheumatoid arthritis or fibromyalgia. She's in pain most of the time and doesn't do anything around the house. Of course, even before this she wasn't exactly Martha Stewart, but I could rely on her for some things. My daughter has never been taught to do anything because I have always waited on her. I am slowly trying to teach her things but I don't want her to be my caretaker. She shouldn't have to take care of me. I just want to take care of myself and my daughter and being robbed of that privilege is almost as painful as the neuropathy.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Crazy
Having the distraction of a boyfriend really took my pain level down. Now that he's gone, the pain level is back up. Dammit! I realized it while it was happening, that I felt better, so at least I will have the memory of it. However, not being in as much pain, or realizing how much pain I am in, is not worth having another boyfriend, at least not the type I seem to attract. I've been reviewing all of my past relationships in my head, from the serious to the fling-only, and I'm questioning the mental state of all of them. I used to question my own sanity, but I need to give myself more credit. When I like the good ones, the non-crazy ones, they don't seem to go for me, though. So, alone I shall be.
Hmmm. My exes. I may be able to get some decent blog entries out of that topic.
My friend George Costanza said it best: "When I like them, they don't like me, when they like me, I don't like them."
Hmmm. My exes. I may be able to get some decent blog entries out of that topic.
My friend George Costanza said it best: "When I like them, they don't like me, when they like me, I don't like them."
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